Beautiful Ally
by TaleBearer
Summary: Sequel to Beautiful Friend. Julia finds herself at the center of a plot to steal artifacts from the museum. Does Ardeth Bey believe she's loyal to him, or will his duty to guard against the perils of the past ruin the attraction growing between them?


Beautiful Ally

by

TaleBearer

Julia was beginning to hate Mr. Kufti's office. She hated the dark wood paneling, the enormous mahogany desk, the bookshelves standing there like more walls trapping her inside. The large area rug covering the wooden floor only added to her headache, its swirls and arabesques less a garden for meditation that a vexation for her tired eyes. Four hours. Four hours she'd sat here, answering the same questions over and over and over again.

The commander of what passed for Cairo's police force was a thin, dour man baked an even darker shade of olive by his life in the sun. His hair was gray, cut so short he might as well have shaved his head. Even though it was scarcely noon, his uniform looked creased and filthy.

"Do you have any idea at all who the thief or thieves might be? Any suspicion? Even the vaguest possible thought?"

Captain Djali paced back and forth, rubbing at his eyes. "I am to the point where I might be willing to rely on something as tenuous and silly as 'woman's intuition.'"

Julia clenched her teeth, then winced as that sent pain shooting through her already aching head. The scarab, the ibis seal, and the lotus staff had been stolen sometime last night. Julia knew who had shown the greatest interest in those items, but Ardeth Bey told her to give the list to no one but him.

"I'm sorry, Captain. The scholars who've come to study the exhibit are all such respectable men, I can't imagine any of them stooping to theft." That was a careful navigation around the truth. There were four strong possibilities on her list, two of them unlikely but nevertheless possible.

Captain Djali blew out his breath in an irritated snort. He paced toward Mr. Kufti, who sat quite straight behind his desk. Julia did her best to keep her eyes off the bow tie Mr. Kufti wore today. The brilliant green clashed so badly with his tweeds it stabbed at her eyes like needles.

"Mr. Kufti," Captain Djali said. "I begin to think the young lady may simply be protecting an accomplice."

Julia groaned. Captain Djali turned on her.

"That is it, is it not? You have a partner in this despicable crime! Speak up, woman! I am losing patience!"

"So am I!" Julia sprang to her feet. "Captain Djali, this really is most outrageous. You marched me out of my office at the University, you brought me here as if you were marching me into a cell, and now you accuse me of sharing in the crime and protecting my accomplices." She jerked the cuffs of her paisley blouse straight, then smoothed a hand over her wine-colored skirt, struggling to regain her composure. "I have put up with this interrogation for as long as I intend to." She walked over to Mr. Kufti's desk and picked up the phone's receiver. "I'm sure the British Embassy will have something to say about this."

As Julia turned to ring up the exchange, Mr. Kufti's hand closed around hers.

"Please, Miss Lawrence, there is no need for such action at this point."

His voice was smooth, soothing, quite different than the fussy chatter she was used to. Julia was so startled by this sudden change she didn't resist when Mr. Kufti guided her hand back to replace the receiver.

"Now then." Mr. Kufti poured Julia a cup of tea from the service sitting beside him. "This shocking theft has left us all distressed. Do sit down, Miss Lawrence, and drink your tea."

Still speechless with amazement, Julia obeyed, carrying her cup and saucer back to her seat. Captain Djali watched her go, eyes wide, mouth opening in outrage.

"Captain Djali." Mr. Kufti's voice cut him off. "I think you will agree we are dealing with knowledgeable professionals. The thieves disturbed nothing else, caused a minimum of damage to the actual cases involved, and took only those artifacts they came for. Surely that will narrow down your list of suspects."

Captain Djali glared at Julia. "Is this woman not 'knowledgeable'? Is she not close to the artifacts in her daily work?"

Julia opened her mouth, sorely tempted to give him a right setting down. Mr. Kufti caught her eye and hushed her with a sharp gesture.

"Captain Djali, I am sorry if Miss Lawrence's presence here has misled you. She is merely my secretary, earning a little money to help her along while she studies at the university." Mr. Kufti turned a genial smile on Julia. "Miss Lawrence, perhaps you would be kind enough to explain your area of expertise to Captain Djali."

Julia set her tea aside. "I am at work on my degree in anthropology. I specialize in the nomads of North Africa, the Bedouin and in particular the Tuareg. My thesis centers on the religious significance of the patterns in Tuareg jewelry."

Captain Djali's brows rose. His mouth jerked up in a sneer. "Why then are you here in this department? You are very far from where you belong."

"She is here because I needed a secretary," Mr. Kufti came around his desk to lay a paternal hand on Julia's shoulder. "Please, Captain, these delicate English ladies cannot long endure beneath your admirable methods."

"She seems to be enduring quite well. In four hours she has told me little or nothing of any value whatsoever."

Julia smiled with grim satisfaction. "Perhaps that's because I don't know anything!"

Mr. Kufti's hand tightened on Julia's shoulder. "You see? The poor girl is rapidly becoming hysterical. Leave her to me. I will keep her under close supervision until you tell me she may be released."

Julia didn't like the sound of that at all, but she kept quiet, watching Captain Djali.

Captain Djali scowled. "Very well." He gave Julia a look of mingled suspicion and contempt. "You will do as Mr. Kufti says. You will not leave the place he decides upon. Under no circumstances will you leave the city. Your passport and other documents have been confiscated."

"What? How dare-" Julia tried to rise. Mr. Kufti leaned his weight on his hand, pinning her in her seat.

"Please, Captain. Leave her to me. It may be she will recall something helpful once the shock of this ordeal has passed."

With a curt nod, Captain Djali marched out the office door, slamming it behind him. Julia stared at the door, suddenly feeling as trapped as she had that morning Collins caught her trying to ride back to Cairo. She looked up at Mr. Kufti, then glared pointedly at his hand where it still lay on her shoulder. He didn't remove it.

"You were very foolish to provoke Captain Djali, Miss Lawrence. If not for your credentials both here and at the university, you might very well be sitting in a jail cell with the scum of Cairo's gutters."

"So you've put me under house arrest, is that it?" Julia shook off his hand and stood up, backing away across the horrid carpet. "You've got me properly under your thumb now, don't you, Mr. Kufti? This must be some compensation for the theft!"

"Listen to me!" Mr. Kufti grabbed her right hand and jerked it up between them. He tapped the silver ring given to her by Ardeth Bey. "I know who gave this to you, and why. I am your friend. Now do as I tell you!"

Julia stared at him, speechless with shock. Bumbling, aggravating Mr. Kufti was "that one" Ardeth Bey had said would help her? Why hadn't she grasped this earlier? The last time she'd seen Ardeth Bey must have left her so overwhelmed she hadn't bothered to think about why he'd been in Mr. Kufti's office.

"Now sit down and be still," Mr. Kufti said. "I will deal with the authorities."

Mr. Kufti hurried out of the office, shutting the double doors carefully. Julia heard the distinct click of the lock. That had to be for show. She could slip out through the file room and run for the back door, just as she had when she'd helped Ardeth Bey hide out for the night. Julia frowned. To do that might be to forfeit whatever real protection Mr. Kufti could provide. She sat down in her chair, sagging back into it. What a godawful morning. Only the scarab, the ibis seal, and the lotus staff were missing. The exact artifacts Ardeth Bey had specified, asking Julia to keep a list of the people who made inquiries about the artifacts or their documentation. Ardeth Bey must have anticipated this theft. The artifacts must have some link to the Brotherhood's purpose. Julia frowned. It was high time she got enough of a grip on her wits to ask Ardeth Bey what exactly that purpose was. Their every encounter seemed to draw her farther and farther into whatever mysterious mission he pursued.

Being a British woman in the Middle East was certainly a two edged sword. The men from the university who came to the museum acknowledged her presence with the proper little courtesies, but they shared the Arabic mentality in seeing her as secondary, a servant. Once she had provided the information they required, she was discounted and ignored. While that was at times infuriating, lately it had been helpful. The patronizing fools were careless about speaking in front of her. That allowed her to make certain educated guesses about their studies and motivations. From those she had built her list of suspects. A list she could give only to Ardeth Bey. There was no knowing when he'd turn up again. He came and went with greater freedom than Cairo's alley cats.

The lock clicked. The double doors swung open. Mr. Kufti hurried in, followed by a tall man wrapped up in the many layers of Bedouin garments. Even his face was covered to the eyes by a white cloth hanging from his headwrap. For a moment Julia's heart leaped. A closer look showed her many lines around the man's eyes, along with a coldness there that Ardeth Bey had never shown. This was someone else.

"Miss Lawrence," Mr. Kufti said. "Mohammed is another friend. He will see you home."

"Home?" For some reason that welcome news made Julia uneasy. "I was under the impression I would be locked away somewhere."

Mr. Kufti smiled. "Not at all. We do have to keep you somewhere safe. Why not be comfortable as well? Just stay with Mohammed." Mr. Kufti's smile faded into a look of genuine concern. "This is for your safety, Miss Lawrence, not your confinement. Do not leave this man's side for an instant."

Cold fingers of fear closed around Julia's heart. A bodyguard. That meant her life was in danger. But why? "I can still call my embassy. They'll send soldiers to fetch me if it comes to that."

"You would be a fool to expose yourself to the ridicule that would follow. No one will hear of this incident but those who need to know. Everyone else will be told a story about restoration, cleaning, documentary study."

Julia looked up at the man dressed as a Bedouin. He carried only one scimitar at his hip, instead of the two scimitars and dagger worn by the Tuareg.

"Is this man Med-Jai?"

Mr. Kufti spoke to the bodyguard in Arabic, who reached up to pull away the white veil across his face. On his cheekbones he wore the tattoos of the Med-Jai. Julia let out her breath. Where she found one Med-Jai, she found others. Ardeth Bey was in Cairo, perhaps somewhere very near.

Mr. Kufti led them toward the door that opened into the file room. "Go quickly. Do exactly as Mohammed tells you. Captain Djali will be watching for you. Give him the slightest reason and he will arrest you on the spot."

Conscience made Julia pause in the doorway. "Thank you, Mr. Kufti. I-- I apologize for my bad temper."

"Not at all. I fully expected you to fly into hysterics within the first half hour. I must say I am impressed."

For the first time that morning, Julia smiled. "That's very kind of you. I do hope this mess can be cleared up quickly."

"Not without considerable effort." Mr. Kufti shook his head. "I fear lives will be lost before the artifacts are returned to us. Now go!"

Mr. Kufti said something in Arabic to Mohammed, who nodded and stepped through the door ahead of Julia. He took her elbow in a firm grip and drew her along with him, leading her through the next door and down the hallway to the rear exit. It was all Julia could do to keep up with Mohammed's long strides. He moved through a network of alleys unfamiliar to Julia, taking right or left turns without hesitation, bringing her straight to the door of her apartment building. Even then Mohammed didn't pause, but simply pulled her right along with him to her own door. He knocked twice, twice again, then once and pressed his ear to the door. He motioned Julia to stand behind him, then drew his scimitar and pushed the door open, making it thump against the inner wall. After a moment, Mohammed sheathed his scimitar. He reached back to catch Julia by the wrist and pull her around in front of him, propelling her into the room.

There on her couch sat Ardeth Bey. Just as Julia was about to run to him, he raised his eyes from the book he held. The look in them stopped her dead. She saw neither the heat of anger nor the chill of some other displeasure. His eyes looked empty, remote, alien. Julia took a step back. The door swung shut behind her. Pure fright seized her, a fear so primal it eclipsed even the terror that gripped the night Collins nearly killed her.

Ardeth Bey stood up. "I have come for the list."

No greeting, no endearment, no sign at all of the closeness they had shared the night they slept side by side in her bed. The chill in Julia's heart took on a different character. It was time to wake up and act like a responsible adult, not some lovesick adolescent in a pulp novel.

"Can I get you tea? Perhaps something to eat? The list requires some explanation."

"Nothing, thank you. Simply the list."

She wanted to reach out to him, to take shelter in his arms, to ask why he was being this way with her. Her questions crumbled before his steady black stare. "Then please, at least sit down."

"We have very little time. Just give me the list."

Julia looked at his outstretched hand. This total lack of civility was getting on her already strained nerves. She'd had just about enough of his bad manners. "Did you really think I'd be foolish enough to write the names down on paper? Paper that anyone could read or steal?" Her temper rose even higher. "I realize you have a very low opinion of me as both a British citizen and a woman, but surely you must give me credit for having more sense than that."

Ardeth Bey inclined his head. "A wise precaution. Please continue."

Julia sat on one the end of the couch and waited for him to sit down as well. "The first name is Dr. Andrew Townsend, archaeologist, scholar, world traveler, and collector of antiquities. He himself hasn't been seen at the library. His personal secretary, a Mr. Bennett, made the inquiries on his behalf. Or so he claims. Mr. Bennett appears to be something of a scholar as well."

Julia rubbed the back of her neck, longing for a bath to wash away more than just the heat of the day. She wanted to scrub herself clean of all this arcane subterfuge.

"The second name is Harold Jameson, an American who looks more cowboy than scholar. He comes equipped with just enough knowledge to ask the right questions the right way."

"Does he represent someone else?"

"It's possible. I have no information either way."

"The next name?"

Julia took a deep breath. This is where things got awkward. "That would be Mr. Kufti."

Ardeth Bey's stony expression didn't waver in the slightest. "Explain."

"He hovers over those artifacts like a mother hen over her chicks. He has opportunity, method, and who knows how many motives. He's in the best position to be the inside part of an inside job."

"Why do you believe he would steal the artifacts?"

Julia looked at him for a long moment. There were other questions on Ardeth Bey's mind, questions he hoped to have answered without revealing anything by asking them. What was he looking for in her answers? It must be something truly dire, to make him withdraw from her so completely.

"I never said I believed that. All I'm doing is telling you who has direct interest in those artifacts, along with possible access to them."

"The next name?"

Julia looked down at her hands. "There is only one other person who has mentioned the artifacts to me." Her mouth went dry. The fear rose again, leaving her chest tight and her breath short.

"Name him."

Julia forced herself to raise her eyes to that cold black stare. "You."

Ardeth Bey regarded her in chilly silence. "Why would I steal those artifacts?"

"To keep your enemies from stealing them. To put them back where they belong. To destroy them and prevent them from being used for whatever it is you fear."

Ardeth Bey nodded. "There is one flaw in your thinking."

"And that is?"

"If I wished the artifacts to remain hidden, I would never have permitted Mr. Kufti to display them in the first place. And as for Mr. Kufti, if I did not trust him completely, I would never have placed the artifacts in his keeping."

"The only people you can trust completely are dead."

Ardeth Bey's expression darkened with old bitterness. "You cannot trust even the dead, Miss Lawrence. That is why the Brotherhood came into being."

Julia couldn't stand the change in him, the total absence of any warmth or regard. She stood up and walked away, not quite into the kitchen.

"Is there anyone else?" Ardeth Bey asked. "Anyone at all?"

Julia swallowed. If the last part had been difficult, this would be absolutely hellish. "One more."

"And that is?"

Julia closed her eyes. "Me."

Ardeth Bey rose in a swish of his long black robes. The heels of his riding boots thumped on the floor. Julia felt the intensity of his presence directly behind her. She held herself still, rigid with fright and the determination to show him none of it.

"You?" There was expectation in that one word, a verbal prod demanding further explanation.

"Of course. I know the artifacts are of value to you. I could have had a spare set of keys to the exhibit hall made at any time. I know the schedules of all the security guards, the habits of all the people in the museum who work late. I know about the documentation. I know a little about the meaning of each item."

"So I see."

Julia glanced back to see Ardeth Bey pick up one of the reference books stacked on the coffee table. Something in his stance, some suspicion, some trace of animosity, made Julia walk into her bedroom. She looked over the mess she'd left behind that morning. It was not the same mess she'd left earlier. Some things had been replaced not quite where she kept them. Julia knelt and ran her hand along the floorboards. Something gritty lay scattered on the floor here and there, most of it piled inside her closet. Sand. Julia sat back. Her fists clenched. So. It had come to this. She got to her feet and turned to see Ardeth Bey watching her from the doorway. Julia gave him a look she hoped was as cold as his. "I thought you considered me your friend."

"When it comes to matters concerning the Brotherhood, I have no friends."

"You do realize I don't even know what any of those things are for?"

"Do you not?" He strode back to the coffee table and spread his hands above the pile of reference books. He dropped the book he held on the top of the pile. "You seem well informed."

That trace of sarcasm, that slight resemblance to Captain Djali broke the last of Julia's self-control. She stormed out of her bedroom and faced him, planting her hands on her hips. "Do you have any idea what I've been through today? I've just spent four bloody hours in Mr. Kufti's office being interrogated by Captain Djali and every other paper-pushing halfwit on the museum's Board of Directors!" She clapped one hand to her forehead, feigning surprise. "Of course! You had to know! Your men were waiting there to deliver me to you. Heaven only knows why you didn't have them tie me up first!"

"Miss Lawrence-- "

"So Mr. Kufti is your contact there. Would it have been even remotely possible for either of you to tell me that? Then I might have had some reason to put up with the way that fussy little tyrant drives me mad!"

Ardeth Bey frowned. "Mr. Kufti is a great friend. You were made his secretary at my request."

Julia's brows shot up. Her mouth fell open. "Your request? How-- Why-- "

"So he could watch over you."

Julia fell back a step, the shock like a physical blow. "You never trusted me, did you? Not once! Not even after-- After you stayed here. . . ."

Ardeth Bey gathered up three of her reference books. "You've told me time and again you have no interest in the past. Why then have you been reading so much about it, about those three artifacts?"

Between the anger, the shame, and the hurt, Julia was now positively ill with emotion. "Why don't you just come right out and ask me what you really want to know?"

"What would that be?"

"If I stole the artifacts. Where I hid them. Who I sold them to."

"Did you steal them?"

"No."

"Where did you hide them?"

"I never had them to hide."

"Who did you sell them to?"

"I can't sell what I don't possess."

Ardeth Bey laid the books aside and stood directly in front of Julia. He took her face in his hands. This was not the tender touch of earlier times. He held her still, staring into the depths of her eyes. Julia shuddered. Now the real interrogation had begun.

"You did not steal them, hide them, or sell them." Ardeth Bey's stern gaze sharpened to a glare. "Did you help anyone else to do so?"

"No."

"Do you know what those objects may be used for? Alone or together?"

"I only know what I've read in those books."

"Tell me. Begin with the scarab."

"The scarab is unusual in that it's completely three dimensional, made of hollow lapis, with a clever little circle on the bottom that turns and drops out so you can put something inside. What that might have been I have no idea."

"Now the seal."

"The ibis seal is unusual in that it was used only by a particular order of priests who served Thoth, God of Truth. They used it on papyruses of particular importance."

"Such as?"

"I haven't the faintest idea."

"None at all?"

"For the last time, I am not an Egyptologist! I know absolutely nothing about some obscure religious order that existed three thousand years ago!"

Julia stared at Ardeth Bey, at the tattoos on his cheeks and forehead, on the backs of his hands. "Med-Jai," she whispered. "Pharaoh's personal guard. The secret police for the Valley of the Kings."

"At first, yes," Ardeth Bey said. "We have a more specific duty now."

Her fright had been giving way to anger. Now the fright surged ahead, leaving Julia cold and shaking. She had seen Ardeth Bey as a Tuareg warrior, patrolling the borders of his people's territory. The full realization struck her. She faced Ardeth Bey, leader of the Brotherhood of the Med-Jai, hereditary guardians of those very treasures that had somehow been stolen.

"If all this has something to do with whatever your sacred mission from Allah might be, believe me when I say I know nothing at all about that. You've told me nothing, Mr. Kufti hasn't said a word, and I've heard nothing from anyone else. Please, Mr. Bey."

The stiffness in his fingers eased, cradling her face in what was almost a caress. "The staff?"

"The lotus staff was probably taken from a temple of Isis. The legend surrounding it says it's the instrument of eternal love and devotion. No one knows precisely how it was used, if it was just symbolic of Isis' powers or if the staff actually existed and could be used as a sort of magic wand."

"Put these things together in your mind. What use would they be?"

"They're ancient history! You know I don't-- "

"Answer me." Ardeth Bey's stare was as hard as his voice, his grip on her jaw tightening to just short of bruising force.

Julia saw again the Med-Jai warrior who had ambushed her that first night, the man who had disarmed her, questioned her, then threatened her with death if she didn't leave by sunrise. This was Ardeth Bey. His kindness, his tenderness, were luxuries to be put aside when duty called.

"The scarab is a container, probably for something of ritual importance. One this size is on the order of a heart scarab, placed over the heart of a mummy to protect it and keep it silent when it was weighed in the scales of Anubis. I would assume whatever was placed inside the scarab added to this protection."

Julia paused. The dull ache of trying to move her jaw against Ardeth Bey's merciless grip was making her headache even worse. "If you find any papyrus with the ibis seal, it came from this order of priests and has to do with their ceremonies for Thoth. In one book I saw a mural from the inside of a tomb. If you got past Anubis and Ammit, this thing that eats the hearts of bad people, then you move on to face Thoth. Maybe the papyrus tells you how to get past him."

Julia forced herself to meet Ardeth Bey's stare. She knew him well enough to know he'd kill to protect the Brotherhood's secrets. Even now his dagger hung on his belt within easy reach.

"As for the staff, its precise use, even its very existence, is a subject of considerable uncertainty."

"Have you read anything that describes how these artifacts might be used together?"

"Nothing I've read indicates these artifacts have anything to do with each other, much less combining them in a particular rite."

Ardeth Bey considered her for a space of heartbeats. Julia recognized the nature of his sudden silence. His true concern was whether or not she had become his enemy, if she had in fact been his enemy all along. The pain of this knowledge was so intense it burned away her fear, leaving her strangely calm.

"Do you remember why you first called me your 'beautiful friend'?" Julia asked. "You told me it's the proper name for someone who swears to give his or her life for you. To you. That's what I swore that night."

Julia held up her right hand, forcing Ardeth Bey to look at the ring, the symbol of all that had passed between them.

"If you really think I would betray you, you're the greatest fool that ever lived."

Ardeth Bey released her and stepped back. His expression softened into what might have been regret. "I must go." He started toward the door.

"Wait." Now it was Julia's turn to step up behind him. As much as she longed to touch him, to rouse some heat in those cold eyes, she kept her hands clenched together. "You told me you'd always be with me, in my heart. Are you there now?"

Ardeth Bey stared straight ahead. He didn't move, didn't speak.

A single tear escaped Julia's rigid control, sliding down her cheek. The last time she had wept in front of Ardeth Bey, he'd kissed her tears away. She drew a long, shuddering breath.

"So. You've shut me out of yours as well." She pulled off the silver ring. "Go, then. And take this with you."

Ardeth Bey turned to look at the ring where it lay gleaming on her palm. He bowed his head. "Keep it. For the sake of that night."

Despair threatened to overwhelm Julia. The only way to stop it from killing her was to turn it outward, into rage.

"Absolutely not. This was the symbol of your trust, the sign that told the other Med-Jai you approved of me. If that's no longer true, I have no right to wear it."

When he made no move to take it from her, Julia threw the ring on the floor at his feet. Ardeth Bey closed his eyes and turned his face away. He stepped around the ring, heading for the door.

"Oh no!" Julia snapped. "You will not insult me even further by ignoring me!"

She snatched up the ring, wadded it up in her handkerchief, then thrust it inside Ardeth Bey's robes. Reflex made him seize her wrist. Julia clenched her teeth against the pain of his grip. Ardeth Bey pressed her hand against his chest, over the steady beat of his heart. Julia longed for some word of reassurance, but his eyes remained cold. He let her hand fall, then walked out the door.

Beyond it stood Mohammed, who gave her one warning glare and pulled the door shut.

Julia stood there, arms wrapped tight around herself, holding in the pain, the sorrow. They were all she had now. Once she let them out, let them drain away in futile tears, she would be left with an emptiness so vast it would swallow her. There was only one thing to do.

Julia walked into her bedroom, opened her closet door and took a wide, flat leather case off the top shelf. She carried it into the kitchen and set it on the counter. When she opened the lid, the light from her overhead lamp gleamed on the barrel of the revolver that lay within the plush interior of the box. Julia went back to the closet and fetched two more smaller boxes. In one was her cleaning kit. In the other was quite a lot of bullets.

She proceeded to take apart the revolver, reciting the order of the parts like a soldier's litany. It was a finer weapon than the one she purchased under Mr. Collins' supervision. Carrying a loaded gun and knowing how to use it would serve her well no matter who the thieves turned out to be. Her greatest weapon was the element of surprise. Nobody expected a bluestocking spinster from Notting Hill Gate to be armed and dangerous.

Ardeth Bey had seen her carry a pistol, but he had no idea what kind of shot she might be. Julia frowned on her work. He continued to underestimate her, which meant he continued to view her in the same typical Arab manner. Thanks to that narrow-mindedness, Ardeth Bey had missed his opportunity to ask her the right questions. Who did she think stole the artifacts? Did she know where the artifacts were being kept? Who could pay the astronomical price the thieves would surely demand? To those questions she could have given well-reasoned and helpful answers.

A quiet resolve settled in Julia's heart, blunting the pain. In the morning she would tell Mohammed she had to go to the market. Surely they had to allow her that much freedom. From there she would move on to the souk. It would be no effort at all to lose herself in the crowded bazaar. If all went well, she could pretend to be a complete fool taken in by the splendors of Egypt. She'd offer the right shopkeeper so much money he'd gladly part with the three artifacts no matter what the thieves might do to him. Once Julia recovered the artifacts and returned them to Ardeth Bey, surely then he would know she could never have betrayed him. If that wasn't enough, then it was time to go back to England before any more of this Egyptian cloak and dagger nonsense got her killed.

* * *

Julia walked the crowded streets of the souk, looking much like any other British tourist out seeing the sights. She would have much preferred her khaki desert attire for this errand, but that would have made her stand out like a parakeet among crows.

Bad enough she was an Englishwoman abroad without a proper escort. All around her moved the Arabic women swathed head to foot in their robes, only their eyes showing. Julia did feel like something of a parakeet, dressed as she was in a white blouse, pale blue skirt, and the tan pair of her endlessly sensible shoes. Her hair was neatly pinned beneath her proper straw hat. She carried her document case with her, to lend her an air of scholarly respectability and to conceal the bulk of the pistol and ammunition hidden within it.

The souk was thronged with people, animals, merchandise, and noise. The odors swirling around her were so pungent they were almost visible. Camel dung, the smell of hot brass in the sunshine, lamb roasting somewhere, and the dust. Always the dust.

She'd lost track of Mohammed more than a quarter of an hour ago. He was nowhere in sight, although she knew that meant nothing where the Med-Jai were concerned. She could only hope Mohammed had lost track of her as well.

Julia made her way through the streets toward a particular shop, one of the lesser varieties of antiques dealers. A few days ago at the museum she had overheard a conversation between Mr. Jameson and another man. Mr. Jameson attempted a clandestine tone of voice, but his booming American accent had carried quite clearly to her through the hush of the museum. Mr. Jameson gave the other man the name of a shop where he could be reached. Nothing more than a message drop, no doubt, but once Julia discovered the nature of the shop, her suspicions were confirmed. At her seemingly innocent request, one of the museum's translator's had written the name of the shop for her in both Arabic and English. She brought the paper out of her pocket, trying to match it against a sign hanging over the door half a block ahead.

"Miss Lawrence? I say, can it be you?"

Julia turned to see Mr. Bennett pushing his way through the throng toward her. He looked cool and crisp in his cream-colored suit, boater held lightly in both hands. He was a narrow man, his dark hair cut short, his brown eyes too close together, even his smile rather tight-lipped.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Bennett."

"Out seeing the sights?"

"Just running a few errands."

"Really? Perhaps Mr. Kufti has sent you looking for treasure among the pretty trash these bandits hawk?"

That was so close to the mark the blood drained from Julia's face, leaving her light-headed.

"I say!" Mr. Bennett put his arm around her waist. "We have to get you out of this sun! Come along, I know just the place."

With a faint shudder Julia stepped out of his grasp. "No, really, Mr. Bennett, you're too kind."

He caught her hand and held it between his. "Don't be a silly girl. You need a quiet place to rest and have a drink. I know you librarians. With no one to cook for you eat like birds."

His patronizing tone provoked a steadying rush of anger. Julia plucked her hand from between his.

"I am not a silly girl. Neither am I a librarian. Good day, Mr. Bennett."

She turned on her heel and hurried onward through the crowd. A hand grabbed her elbow and spun her around.

"I don't think you understand, Miss Lawrence." Mr. Bennett's smile was still in place, but there was a distinct edge to it. "Dr. Townsend would like to invite you to luncheon."

Two men suddenly appeared on either side of Julia. They looked like longshoremen stuffed unhappily into respectable clothing. Both were head and shoulders taller than Julia, built like prize fighters. To cover her anxiety, Julia summoned up her frostiest tone of voice.

"I'm afraid I am engaged. You will kindly release me this instant."

"Really, Miss Lawrence. There's no need for a scene. Just come along quietly and we'll have a nice little chat."

Julia stared over Mr. Bennett's shoulder, searching for any sign of Mohammed. With a sickening sensation of doom she realized she should have listened to Mr. Kufti. There was no sign of her bodyguard, but Julia did see one familiar figure across the street, unmistakable in his Stetson and snakeskin boots.

"Mr. Jameson!" she cried. "Mr. Jameson! How lovely to see you!"

Mr. Jameson craned his neck to see past the tall men flanking her. He took one look at the situation and stormed over, pushing the brute closest to her aside.

"Do we have a problem here, little lady?"

Julia smiled broadly. "Not at all! Dear Mr. Bennett has invited me to luncheon, but I'm afraid I had to tell him I was already engaged. So tell me, what shall it be? That divine little casbah on the edge of the city? Perhaps one of the coffee houses here?"

In the midst of her babble, Mr. Jameson's blank look changed to one of sinister glee. "Well now, I thought we might eat on one of those pretty little boats that'll take us right down the Nile."

"How marvelous! I am simply famished!"

"Then we'd better get going." Mr. Jameson glared at the two brutes, then gave Mr. Bennett a broad grin. "Not your lucky

day, fellas. Be seeing you."

Mr. Bennett made a stiff bow, his face tight with anger. "You may rely on that, Mr. Jameson."

Julia was content to cling to Mr. Jameson's arm until they had walked a good block or two away from that spot.

"I really can't thank you enough, Mr. Jameson. That man has been pestering me. He thinks just because I work at the museum we have a great deal in common."

"Maybe we ought to make that little white lie the truth. What do you say? I know a joint where the food at least looks right."

"That's terribly kind of you, but I'm running some errands for Mr. Kufti. He expects me back shortly."

"You know, you're looking awful peaky. I think maybe we ought to sit you down somewhere for a spell. Rushing around in this heat will do you in quicker than a snakebite."

He pulled her along with him toward one of the stalls selling spicy fried foodstuffs. Julia gritted her teeth. What a day for misguided gallantry. With Mr. Bennett she had some kind of social footing on which to maneuver. With this big American cowboy she had no such leverage. The crowd before them scurried away to either side of the street. Mohammed stood there, scimitar drawn, dressed in the full black robes of the Med-Jai with both scimitars and his dagger. His cold eyes were fixed on Julia, his glare freezing her where she stood.

"One side, Abdul," Mr. Jameson snapped.

Mohammed ignored him, glaring steadily at Julia. He tilted his head slightly to her left. Knowing better than to press her luck any farther, Julia tried to free her hand from where Mr. Jameson held it in the crook of his arm.

"I think perhaps I'll just move out of the way and leave you two gentlemen to sort this out."

"You're not going anywhere."

Mr. Jameson gripped Julia's right wrist in his left hand. His right came up, about to dip inside his jacket. He grunted, jerked forward, then collapsed in a heap. Julia spun around to see two other Med-Jai behind her, one gripping his dagger with the hilt turned out as a club. The two Med-Jai took Julia by the arms and hustled her forward, following Mohammed down an alley that led into a network of shadowed lanes. They threaded through the narrow avenues so quickly Julia had no time to note landmarks or anything that might help her recognize where they were taking her. She clung to her document case, praying the ammunition inside didn't rattle and prompt the Med-Jai to search her.

At last Mohammed stopped before one more anonymous door. He rapped on it, the same pattern he'd used on the door to her flat. A voice answered him in Arabic. As the door swung inward, the two Med-Jai holding her pushed Julia through ahead of them.

At first it was so dim inside Julia could see nothing. Lights emerged from the gloom, candle flames behind colored glass. The smells of fermentation and rancid grease were thick enough to choke her. Mohammed held a whispered conversation with someone in one shadowy corner, then stepped back to stand between Julia and the door.

"Sit down, Miss Lawrence."

The familiar voice, deep, resonant, and now forbidding, came from that shadowy corner. Ardeth Bey. He'd caught her, and in the company of men he knew to be his enemies. Sheer dread made her hesitate. The two Med-Jai grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down onto a cushion. Her knee struck the edge of a low table. As her eyes continued to adjust, the figure of Ardeth Bey took shape in the shadows. For the first time he looked truly menacing, the tattoos on his face marking him as being of a different order, another world. Seeing again that look of alien dispassion in his eyes, Julia's growing anxiety crystallized into pure fright.

"We have to stop meeting like this." She was startled by the sound of her own voice. "For one thing, I never know how to dress."

"You do not know how to obey instructions. You were told to stay with Mohammed, no matter what. You deliberately ran away from him."

"I did not. We were separated in the crowds."

"You are a fool. I knew that from the moment I first saw you. I did not know you were foolish enough to throw away your life."

"What on earth are you talking about? I went to the market, for heaven's sake!"

"You made your way directly to the far side of the souk. What did you seek there?"

"Answers."

"And what did you find? The two men at the top of your list, waiting for the opportunity to capture you."

Julia ran her hand back over her hair, tucking the stray curls behind her ears. She let out a long sigh. "I'm afraid I'm at a loss to know why Mr. Bennett or Mr. Jameson should have any interest in 'capturing me,' as you so melodramatically put it."

"Perhaps they weren't trying to capture you. Am I mistaken? Did you set out to meet one of them, to warn him or pass along some other information?"

Julia shot straight up off the cushion. "How dare you speak to me like that!"

The two Med-Jai grabbed her arms. Outrage lent her strength enough to shove them away. They sprang at her, twisting her arms up behind her back, forcing her down onto her knees. Julia clenched her teeth against any sound of pain. She raised her head, meeting Ardeth Bey's glare with her own.

"I do have information to pass along. I was about to pass it along to you yesterday. Before I could do so, you suddenly decided I was your prime suspect."

"You have yet to convince me otherwise."

He sat there, cold and impassive, letting his men all but wrench her arms from their sockets. Julia thought of waking up to the sight of him bathed in sunlight, his eyes glowing like dark amber and his smile so bright it dazzled her. Now she knelt before him like a slave, only moments away from a quick and brutal death. Deep inside Julia, something tender, something precious, hardened, then shattered. It was time to put aside any hope, any last thoughts of what might have been.

"Mr. Bey, understand me when I tell you I am a British citizen. Hold me here against my will so much as a moment longer and I assure you I will bring charges."

"Even if you somehow reached the British Embassy, the officials there would be forced to contact Captain Djali. He would insist on the entire matter being turned over to him. That would include you."

"Is that so terrible?"

"The moment you step into Captain Djali's office, you will find yourself drugged, bound hand and foot, and carried off to the highest bidder."

"You're joking."

"You are young, beautiful, British, educated, and of a fiery temperament. You would provide any sultan with a great deal of amusement, right up until the moment he tired of your defiance and had you beaten or killed."

Julia stared at Ardeth Bey. This was no threat. It was truth, plain, harsh, and inescapable. "Just as I've amused you, Mr. Bey? What a pity you no longer find me amusing. I assume the same consequences will follow."

Real anger flashed in Ardeth Bey's dark eyes. "Stupid, stupid woman. I am the only one trying to keep you alive."

Julia hung her head, biting her lip against any sign of tears. "Fine. Let the interrogation begin."

Ardeth Bey spoke in Arabic. The two Med-Jai holding Julia let go of her. She took her seat on the cushion and rubbed at her sore shoulders. "May I at least have something to drink? Or do you deny your prisoners any such comforts?"

Ardeth Bey clapped his hands twice. A woman hurried out of some doorway in the back, set down a tray and a pitcher, then vanished back the way she had come. Ardeth Bey leaned forward, into stronger light. Even now, in the depths of her fright and desperation, his exotic beauty made Julia's heart turn over. When he spoke, his voice was almost gentle.

"You are not my prisoner, Miss Lawrence. You are my guest."

Ardeth Bey picked up the pitcher and one wooden cup. He poured it full and held it out to her. She took it, sipping at the mint tea. Julia watched in amazement as his slender, nimble fingers gathered a bit of everything on the tray into a wooden bowl, then set it before her.

"Eat. Drink. When you are ready, we will begin."

The very idea of eating made Julia ill. Arguing with Ardeth Bey in front of his men was bad enough. To reject his hospitality would count among the gravest of insults. She ate everything he'd put before her. Lamb, rice, greens, cucumbers, other things she didn't recognize, all of it delicious. In any other circumstances she might have enjoyed the meal. Now she scarcely tasted it. She drained the cup in one prolonged swallow, then set the bowl and cup aside.

The silence lengthened. Ardeth Bey stared at Julia. Was he waiting? What for? Waves of anxiety washed over her, rising higher and higher. Julia kept still, kept silent, determined to win at this little game. She knew a considerable length of time must have passed when the Med-Jai to her right shifted his weight from one foot to the other. For them, schooled to absolute stillness, that was a sign of discomfort too great to ignore.

"Why must you make this so difficult?" Ardeth Bey's voice had softened to a murmur, full of weariness and perhaps even sorrow.

Julia's heart ached to hear it. Her hands longed to reach out and touch him, to cling to his waist and press her face against his chest. To show him she was still what she had always been, what she had become, for him.

"I had hoped to locate the artifacts myself, possibly even buy them out from under whatever fool is hiding them for the thieves."

"And had you succeeded?"

"I would have asked Mohammed to take me to you, so I could lay all three at your feet and prove to you I am no traitor."

"How can I believe you, Miss Lawrence? How can I be certain you aren't being used, with or without your knowledge, by the enemies of the Brotherhood?"

Now there was a hint of anguish in his voice. He had to be exhausted, to let even that much of his true feelings show. She had to finish this. She would help Ardeth Bey regain the artifacts. Then she could leave Egypt with a clear conscience and an empty heart.

"Let me go. Let me do what I set out to do. If the artifacts are there, then the instant I lay eyes on them I will scream the very tiles off the roof so that you and your brothers can rush in and reclaim them."

"And if they are not there?"

"There are two other places I think are likely."

"How do you know where the artifacts might be? How could you know?"

"There was a gentleman in my country some years ago who wrote stories featuring a detective named Sherlock Holmes. In 'The Purloined Letter,' a man successfully hid a letter everyone thought had been stolen by simply leaving it in the pile with some other correspondence."

Ardeth Bey made no reply. Julia sighed.

"What I'm saying is, given how unusual these artifacts are, only the most expert Egyptologist will have even heard of them, much less know what they're for and how much they're worth. It would be easy enough to conceal the artifacts among the cheap trinkets sold to gullible tourists."

"Very clever. Why did you decide on that particular shop?"

"I heard Mr. Jameson mention it to a man he spoke with at the museum."

"Why would Mr. Jameson name that shop when there are dozens like it?"

"I think he's using it as a message drop. He told the man he was speaking to he could be contacted there."

"You heard quite a lot."

"Mr. Jameson has a voice like a foghorn on a clear night. To avoid hearing him I would have had to be not only deaf but four blocks away."

Ardeth Bey beckoned to the Med-Jai on her left. The man stepped forward and bent low to hear the instructions given to him in a sibilant hiss. He made straight for the back of the building, where the woman had come from.

Ardeth Bey rose. Some instinct made Julia rise as well. He stepped around the low table, forcing her to turn and face him. What little light there was shone from behind him, concealing his expression.

"Go to this shop Jameson named. Conduct your search. Understand that the Brotherhood will be with you, unseen but close enough to touch if danger threatens."

"Is that meant to be a comfort or a warning?"

"Only you can know that."

Julia looked up at him, her face twisting with grief. She let him see every ounce of her anger and her pain. "You should have killed me in the desert. That would have been merciful, compared to this."

* * *

Julia hesitated before the door of the shop. The front window was layered in dust, the display beyond it a clumsy arrangement of garish souvenirs calculated to catch the eye. Crude wooden copies of King Tut's sarcophagus, metal or ceramic ankhs of all sizes strung on cheap chains or leather thongs, and an amazing variety of tasteless housewares that would make even the silliest parlormaid blush to dust them. As comical as the scene was, Julia's heart raced and her hands shook. She kept fighting down the urge to glance back over her shoulder. Once she crossed this threshold, she might very well be on her way to the underworld. She gripped the leather shoulder strap of her document case where it crossed her torso like a bandoleer. Wishing with all her heart she'd written this week's letter to her father, sending him her love, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The tattered string of cheap brass bells hanging from the doorknob clattered. The dust covering the front window and the lack of any other natural lighting made the shop seem even darker and more sinister. Julia made her way cautiously around a rack of faded postcards, looking for the bins where the scarabs would be displayed. Even she should surely recognize a lapis lazuli scarab as big as a hen's egg among the ordinary rubbish.

A short, thin man wearing a fez and a threadbare suit appeared at her elbow. "Good afternoon, Madam. How may I serve you?"

Julia smiled. "Good afternoon. I was hoping you might have some beetles in blue. I see you have green, and brown, and even the whitish ones."

"What shade of blue did Madam prefer?"

"It's funny you should ask me that. I've seen that enamel, the fay-ence?"

"Faience." The shopkeeper nodded.

"I was rather hoping for something darker than that. Perhaps with some gold decoration? And larger, please. Say, so big?" Julia made the oval with her thumbs and forefingers.

The shopkeeper's patient smile hardened just a bit around the edges. "I will check my stockroom. Would Madam be interested in any other relics of the pharaohs' glory?"

Julia chose her words carefully, knowing she was about to traverse the abyss. "My sister is so very fond of birds. Might you have anything with birds on it? Falcons, owl birds, storks, perhaps even an ibis?"

At the word "ibis" the shopkeeper's eyes jerked away from Julia's face, looking over her shoulder. Pure instinct made Julia throw herself to the ground, rolling into the shopkeeper's legs. He fell forward over her, colliding with whoever had been sneaking up behind her. Julia scrambled to her feet and ran for the door. Outside the dusty window she could see the black robes and veiled faces of the Med-Jai. If only she could reach them, tell them she'd been right--

"Well hello there!" Mr. Jameson's large hand closed on Julia's upper arm, jerking her around. "Fancy meeting you here, little lady. Looks like we're just meant to be together."

Julia snatched a squat brass vase off a nearby shelf and flung it at the window with all her strength. The window shattered, spraying the Med-Jai outside with splinters of glass.

"They're here!" she screamed. "I was right! They're here!"

Mr. Jameson dragged her away from the window. The back of his hand cracked against her cheek. Stars flickered behind Julia's eyes. She heard more glass shattering. She prayed the Med-Jai were using their rifles to clear the rest of the window so they could climb through. Mr. Jameson threw her over his shoulder and ran away from the window, into greater darkness. He twisted and turned through a maze of tall wooden shelves, filled with books and dusty knickknacks. Julia clung to the strap of her document case. If she lost that, she was lost forever.

Mr. Jameson dumped her into a moldering armchair whose springs were shot. Julia slumped, eyes closed, hoping he'd assume he'd knocked her unconscious. The cloud of dust billowing up around her tormented her nose, making her long to sneeze.

"Jerry! Chuck!" Mr. Jameson put his shoulder against one of the shelves and shoved it a few feet out of line, putting it at an angle to the door they'd just entered. "Line these up. We'll have to hold them off until the big boys get here."

Two more cowboy types abandoned their card game and put their shoulders to the shelves. While the three men were busy, Julia risked a look around. She sat next to a folding table covered by a dingy tablecloth. On it sat an alabaster box, a small cylinder of what looked like gold, and a length of wood thick as a broomstick, its every inch carved with Egyptian symbols. The head of the stick fanned out into the shape of a lotus. Julia sighed. Until this very moment she hadn't been completely sure. She had indeed found the artifacts. Now it was just a matter of living long enough to deliver them to Ardeth Bey.

From the outer shop came the sound of smashing crockery and a few gunshots. The musical ring of scimitars drawn from their scabbards meant the hand to hand fighting had begun. Mr. Jameson and his two burly assistants hunkered down behind their improvised barricade. Each one drew a pistol from his belt. Julia knew there were only moments left before the Med-Jai swept in a slaughtered everything in sight. That might well include her this time, given Ardeth Bey's total abandonment of the affection that had begun to blossom between them.

Julia slid out of the chair and onto the floor, then crawled under the tablecloth. The cloth would hide her from the eyes of her enemies, but not their bullets. Still, as long as she hid right beside the artifacts, no one would risk firing on her. She unbuckled the strap closing her document case and took out the pistol. She checked the barrel. Fully loaded. Opening the box of bullets, she dumped it into the case, then stuffed handfuls of bullets into the pockets of her skirt. Maybe she should invest in a bandoleer after all.

The uproar in the outer shop subsided just enough to reveal another noise, the sound of something enormous crashing against the side of the building. Julia laid flat and peeked out from under the very edge of the cloth. The barred door on the far wall buckled inward, its wood starting to splinter. Two more crashes and the door gave way. Med-Jai poured in, rifles ready. Mr. Jameson's friend Chuck sprang to his feet and raised his pistol. Several rifle shots cut him down. Mr. Jameson and Jerry stood up slowly, hands in the air.

The wall of Med-Jai three deep parted to allow one taller figure to step through. The man reached up to pull down his veil. Julia let out her breath. Ardeth Bey.

"You will drop your guns," he said.

The pistols clattered to the floor. Two Med-Jai snatched them up, then moved back into position.

Ardeth Bey walked over to the table. Julia shrank back. The toes of his boots were scant inches from her. Was this the moment to reveal herself? No. The element of surprise was still her greatest weapon, a weapon she might need to use against Ardeth Bey.

"Where is the woman?" Ardeth Bey asked.

"What woman?" Mr. Jameson said.

"The one whose screams alerted us. The one brave enough to come into this den of thieves and force you to show yourself."

Julia couldn't believe her ears. Was that pride in Ardeth Bey's voice? Admiration?

"Oh, you mean that little lady from the museum." Mr. Jameson chuckled. "Sounds like she meant a lot to you. Too bad."

Ardeth Bey's bootheels raised more dust from the floor as he stormed over to Mr. Jameson. "Where is she?"

"On her way to Anubis, you sorry son of a bitch."

Ardeth Bey's fist shot out, hitting Mr. Jameson across the jaw with enough force to lift him off his feet and send him sprawling. Julia eased out from under the far side of the cloth. She had to time this very carefully. She crouched down, peering through the narrow gap between the side of the armchair and the tablecloth. Ardeth Bey drew one scimitar and pressed the point to Jerry's throat.

"You have only one hope for mercy," Ardeth Bey said. "Tell me who paid you to steal these artifacts."

"Don't say a thing, Jerry!" Mr. Jameson shook his head, rubbing his jaw. "You hear me? Not one single word!"

Ardeth Bey barked an order in Arabic. The nearest Med-Jai slammed the butt of his rifle Mr. Jameson's stomach, making him curl up around the pain.

"I would gladly slit your throat myself," Ardeth Bey hissed. "And I shall, believe me, if you do not answer me this instant."

"Well, y'see," Jerry began. "This fancy British fella was drinking in the same bar as we were one night. We all got to talking about treasure, and what do you know, it turns out he was looking for some hard-nosed fellas to do a job for him."

When Mr. Jameson didn't hush Jerry again, Julia watched Mr. Jameson closely. Just as she suspected, Mr. Jameson used Jerry's blather to cover his own movement. His hand inched down along his leg toward the top of his boot where a bone handle stuck out. A boot knife. As his fingers closed around it, Julia sprang to her feet, knocking over the table and hurling the three artifacts to the floor. The alabaster box shattered. The golden seal broke into two pieces. The staff bounced, taking a chip out of the lotus.

"Ardeth!" she screamed. "Get down!"

Mr. Jameson's hand whipped up and forward. The silvery flash of the knife spun toward Ardeth Bey, heading straight for his chest. Julia fired, again and again and again. Mr. Jameson whipped another pistol out from the small of his back. Julia swung the muzzle of her pistol toward him and fired. Both guns went off. White hot pain ripped through Julia. She spun around, clutching at the armchair for support. Ardeth Bey leaped forward, scimitar slashing up, then down. Mr. Jameson toppled over in his own spray of blood. Julia sprawled face down across the floor. Somewhere above her was the voice of Ardeth Bey, roaring with rage and grief. Julia smiled. He was alive. That was all that mattered now. She closed her eyes. No more pain. Just the sweet, silent darkness.

* * *

Julia woke up in a white room filled with painfully bright sunshine. She lay in bed, dizzy and sick and hurting all over. Her right arm hung in a sling across her chest. Her hair had been arranged in a loose braid hanging down over her left shoulder. She patted the bed feebly with her left hand. Empty. Of course. She laughed, a weak shaking of her shoulders. Pain ripped through her, from her shoulder and her heart.

"Gone," she murmured. "Gone. And now you won't come back." Tears welled up in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

"Julia?"

Ardeth Bey rose from a chair in the corner. He looked every bit as bad as Julia felt. His black hair hung in an untidy tangle around his pale, drawn features. His full lips were set in a thin, grim line. The neatly trimmed beard showed at least a day's growth of stubble. His robes were torn, filthy, stained with powder burns. As he leaned over her, she saw that although his dark eyes were bloodshot, within them burned a radiant joy.

"I am here, Julia."

Relief surged through her, so intense it stole her voice. She reached up her left hand to brush her fingers along his cheek. "You. . .. Not hurt?"

"No. You hit the blade before it could reach me."

She tried to smile. "Collins said. . . . Said I was a natural."

The effort of speaking drained what little strength she had. Her head fell back against the pillow. A noise of pain hissed out between her teeth.

Ardeth Bey laid his cool palm on her forehead. "Your wounds?"

Julia managed a fractional nod. Ardeth Bey smoothed her hair back.

"I will call the nurse."

He strode to the door, opened it just wide enough to put his head out into the hallway, then snapped out some orders in Arabic. Moments later two fully armed Med-Jai hustled a nurse into the room.

"Now see here!" The nurse was plump, her grey hair up in a tight bun, her crisp white uniform already showing dusty handprints. "This is not some desert hideout! I will not have you-- "

"Miss Lawrence is in pain." Ardeth Bey's voice lashed out like a whip. "You will give her what she needs."

The nurse's crisp efficiency wilted before his dark glare. "I-- I'm afraid I'll have to check her chart."

"Do so."

The nurse picked up the clipboard hanging at the foot of Julia's bed. "She's not due for another dose until-- " The nurse glanced at the watch affixed to her bosom. "One hour and forty-five minutes."

Ardeth Bey took one step closer. He gripped the hilt of one scimitar. "Now."

The nurse backed up, bumping into the two Med-Jai behind her. "I-- I'll just go and fetch the doctor, shall I?"

At Ardeth Bey's nod, the two Med-Jai stepped aside and let the nurse scurry out. They followed, closing the door softly. Ardeth Bey turned back to Julia. The sternness on his face gave way to a tender regard that took Julia's breath away.

"First you appeared like a djinn, and my heart rejoiced." He took her left hand between his, holding it against his cheek. "When you fell-- " He closed his eyes, his fingers tightening around hers. His expression hardened. "No matter. You live, and you are avenged."

"Then it's over? The artifacts are safe?"

The door opened. A doctor hurried in. In her dazed state, Julia thought he looked like a mummy. Slender, bony, all elbows and knees, wrapped up in a long white coat. The nurse followed, keeping well away from Ardeth Bey. Mr. Kufti came in right behind her. He stood at the foot of Julia's bed, beaming.

"My dear lady," he said. "How wonderful to see you awake. We were all so concerned."

"Thank you, Mr. Kufti." Julia glanced at Ardeth Bey, hoping for some hint of how to proceed. He said nothing. It looked as if it took all his concentration just to stay on his feet.

"I am Doctor Shamir." The doctor looked at the chart. "You are in pain, Miss?"

"Oh yes." Another breath hissed out. "Everything is throbbing or aching or burning."

Dr. Shamir nodded. "Bullet wounds will do that." He turned to the nurse. "By all means, bring me the next dose."

The nurse left without a word.

Dr. Shamir smiled at Julia. "I am sorry for your discomfort, Miss Lawrence. We could only guess at the proper level of medication while you were still unconscious."

"That's all right. I thought I was dead."

Dr. Shamir chuckled. "Nowhere near. The Med-Jai have had much practice in treating bullet wounds." He moved to her right side and lifted the hospital gown away from her shoulder, examining the bandages. "The bullet went through the muscle, missing the joint entirely. Most fortunate. Bone fragments would have rendered the joint largely useless." He rearranged her gown. "It should heal well. However, I'm afraid you will have a rather noticeable scar."

"I'll wear it with pride." Julia turned her head to look Ardeth Bey in the eye. "Some men value courage above beauty."

The nurse returned with a needle and syringe. Dr. Shamir scrubbed Julia's arm with gauze dipped in alcohol. She braced herself against the sting of the injection. Moments later the world turned soft and hazy. Julia floated along in a mild blue cloud of tranquility. No wonder morphine was so addictive.

"Doctor Shamir." Nurse Brooks made a half-hearted gesture at Ardeth Bey. "You must tell this-- this gentleman to leave the lady alone. She needs her rest."

"Nurse Brooks, this is a Tuareg warrior. Like elephants and kittens, they go where they please."

Doctor Shamir herded Nurse Brooks out ahead of him. At the door he looked back at Mr. Kufti and Ardeth Bey. The three men bowed to each other. From the soaring heights of her euphoria, Julia giggled.

"You Med-Jai are just like ants, aren't you? Absolutely everywhere and there's no keeping you out."

"My dear Miss Lawrence," Mr. Kufti said. "What are we to make of you? At first we thought you a foolish spinster bound for a bad end in the company of that swine Collins. Now you've proven yourself quite the marksman." He stepped closer, turning a questioning look on Ardeth Bey. With a nod Ardeth Bey moved back, allowing Mr. Kufti to take Julia's hand between his own. "The Brotherhood is in your debt. You have shed your blood for us. You saved the life of a man I love like my own son."

Julia grinned. "Do I get a raise? Or a scimitar?" She fumbled at her cheek. "Perhaps a tattoo? My mother would throw the most spectacular fit!"

"I think you will find the gratitude of the Brotherhood will encompass much more than a single token of our thanks." Mr. Kufti gave her hand back to Ardeth Bey. "You will take as many days as you need to recuperate. Do not let me see you in my office for at least a week."

"Thank you, Mr. Kufti. You're so much nicer than I thought you were."

"Not all at, my dear lady. Not at all."

The door closed behind him. Julia looked up at Ardeth Bey. Now that they were alone again, he stared down at her with that look of strange intensity. He reached behind his back to pull something out of his belt. It was the hilt of Jameson's shattered knife.

"To shoot a spinning blade out of the air. . . ." Ardeth Bey shook his head. "Never have I seen this done."

"Collins did do me two favors. One, he taught me how to shoot straight."

"And the other?"

"I met you."

Ardeth Bey glanced at her right hand. Just her hand, no gleam of silver where his ring should have been.

"You still consider that a favor?"

The drug was an even greater mercy now, keeping Julia's anguish at a distance. So much had changed. How was she to answer him? "I'm not sure. That depends on you."

Ardeth Bey reached out to brush the very tips of his long fingers over the bandage on her shoulder. "You nearly gave your life to save mine. What greater proof of friendship, of loyalty, of truth could I possibly require?"

"Then you do believe me? You know nothing could ever make me betray you."

"Forgive me. I must put my duty above all else. So much depends on it."

"The artifacts. . . ." Julia recalled the sound of the alabaster box shattering, shards of lapis among the lighter fragments. "Oh no! I've damaged all of them!"

Ardeth Bey laid his hand on her left shoulder, easing her back against the pillows.

"They were nothing more than duplicates placed in the display at my instruction. I knew these fools would do their best to steal them. Better that they showed themselves in taking nothing of real value."

Sudden anger brought the world into sharp focus. Julia glared at Ardeth Bey, putting all the force of her feeling into her eyes. "You knew? All along, you knew only the fakes had been stolen, yet you let me think you suspected me?"

"Be still, Julia. Do not distress yourself. All is well."

"No it bloody well is not! Why? Tell me why!"

Ardeth Bey knelt beside her. He stroked her braid, ran the backs of his fingers along her cheek.

"You above all had to behave as though the real treasures had been stolen. If you had shown any sign of knowing the truth, you might have been taken and questioned."

"Taken? You mean-- By Jameson?"

"Or others. They would not have been satisfied until you told them what they wanted to know, whether or not you survived their questioning."

Julia recalled the look on Mr. Bennett's face and the two thugs he'd brought with him. Only now did she fully understand the peril she'd been in. The blood drained from her face, leaving her dizzy and sick.

Ardeth Bey watched her expression change, nodding. "You see? I could not risk that, even if it meant causing you this temporary pain."

Julia stared at him. "Then-- It was all an act? The way you cut yourself off from me, all those horrible things you said-- "

"Forgive me." The mask of the stoic warrior slipped. Ardeth Bey looked weary, careworn, hagridden. The anguish in his voice was terrible to hear. "It was the only way to keep you safe."

A warm glow of happiness spread through Julia, mingling with the drug to lift her high above the pain. "Come here."

He leaned toward her.

"Closer."

He bent his head, putting his ear level with her lips.

"Now look at me." As he turned his head, Julia leaned forward to meet his lips with hers. She raised her left hand and sank her fingers into the curling thickness of his black hair, holding him where she wanted him, making him submit to the thoroughness of her kiss. The morphine sang through her blood, mingling with her pleasure to expand it, leaving her heart pounding and her battered body longing for the healing touch of his hands.

Ardeth Bey laid his head on her breast, a sigh easing out of him. Julia ran her fingers through his long black curls. She let the moments slip by, enjoying the silky feel of his hair, the warm weight of his head on her breast, the welcome sense of bringing him relief.

"I told you I would give you my life, that I would give my life for you. I keep my promises."

Ardeth Bey nodded against her. "If you were a man, you would ride with the best of us." He raised his head, his breath teasing her lips. "Praise Allah you are a woman, that I may do this."

He kissed her, a fierce, possessive kiss, branding her lips with the heat of his passion. Julia sank into the glory of it, letting the tide of rapture sweep her away.

At last Ardeth Bey turned his head and pressed his cheek against hers. He murmured against her ear.

"You cannot know how my heart ached to see you angry, to know your heart was growing cold and hard against me."

Julia brushed her lips along his rough cheek. "I smiled when I fell, not caring if I died as long as I knew you lived."

Ardeth Bey buried his face against her neck. After a long moment, he kissed her forehead, then stood.

"I am with you now until the moment I see you settled in your own bed. Then Mohammed will attend you until I may come again. Four Med-Jai will be with you, near but unseen, for the rest of your stay in Cairo."

"But-- Why? I thought you trusted me now."

"I do, sheytana." He smiled, stroking her cheek. "You have become a treasure to me. Like all treasures under the protection of the Med-Jai, you must be guarded."

He gently clasped the fingers of her right hand in his left and bent to kiss them. He reached into his robes to bring out the silver ring, then slipped it onto her ring finger.

"No longer a stranger, more than a friend. We are allies, Julia Lawrence. Now and always."

THE END


End file.
